


Spontaneous

by amberswansong



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, F/M, Kink Meme, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Canon, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberswansong/pseuds/amberswansong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She reached up at one point and touched her hair, and that was when he decided that he had to have her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spontaneous

It was never spontaneous. It always involved alcohol, and cigarettes, and an afternoon that stretched too long. He'd been with dozens, hundreds of hot bitches, most of whom were not actually dead now, despite his reputation. There had been all kinds - brunettes, blondes, redheads, of all shapes and sizes - but when he was drunk, he gravitated toward small dark-haired girls with wide, innocent eyes.

Amber had called her over to discuss something related to her inheritance, and he'd sat and watched her, engrossed by the line of her jaw as she talked. His assistant kept his martini glass full, and he lost track of how many he'd actually had. He smoked, mostly to irritate Amber. If she was going to make him sit through this interminable meeting with the kid, he would make her suffer appropriately. She reached up at one point and touched her hair, and that was when he decided that he had to have her.

When Amber finished with her, he engaged her in conversation, exercising the full extent of his charm to a degree he hadn't had to in a long time. He was gentle with her -- as gentle as he was capable of being, at least; coaxing her innocence into his arms, his lap, his bed. The final component was inevitable; Luigi Largo had never met the girl he couldn't get into his bed if he really put his mind to it. Honestly, it wasn't even that difficult. A few soft words, assurances that his public reputation was seriously exaggerated, and she'd put her small hand trustingly into his and rose with him. He put the other hand out to check his balance - he was slightly drunker than he'd thought.

Amber looked up from the expense reports she was poring over and raised her eyebrows. He smirked back, and she looked startled for a moment before she scowled at him. "Seventeen?" she mouthed, and he shrugged. She looked over at the girl and he thought she was going to say something before she rolled her eyes at him and went back to her paperwork.

Taking this as tacit permission, he smiled down at the dark-haired beauty and led her from the room.

He took her back to his own room, rather than where he usually brought his conquests. He kept the lights low, a softness on par with candlelight. The girl was shy and reticent at first, but gave it up quickly enough when he turned on the charm. She lay back, sinking into the softness of the bed until practically all that was visible were her tits and her wide, shining eyes. "Please," she whispered, wriggling under his coaxing touch.

Luigi unbuckled his pants and then unbuttoned his shirt, focusing on one button at a time. Her small hand came up unbidden and stroked at his scars as he bared them. "Cut it out, kid," he growled, and her hand jerked back as if he'd slapped her. He forced a smile. "It tickles," he admitted, and she giggled and squirmed. The hand came up again, this time deliberately, and traced the smooth line across his chest. He let her do it. Hell, it didn't tickle that much, and if it got the kid off, he sure as fuck wasn't going to argue with it.

She got bored with it quick enough, and stole a glance down at what was poking out of his shorts. The tickling hand crept down and touched him, gently. He let her explore it for a few minutes before he shoved out of his pants and leaned over her.

She was shivering as he thrust into her, and answered his movement with a high, trembling cry that jolted to the base of his cock. He lost himself in it, the silky dark hair and the sweet voice. It happened every time, and he usually ended up killing the girl to keep his secret.

_Carmela. Carmela._ Her name pounded through his head like a heartbeat. He whispered it, thrusting harshly into the dark, and she squirmed and shrieked below him, struggling to get free of his sudden ferocity. "Mine," he snarled, digging his hands into her upper arms.

"Stop," she pleaded, sobbing, "stop it, you're hurting me, Luigi, you're hurting me," and the words were familiar but the voice wasn't, and it snapped him out of the fantasy into his orgasm. He shoved off of her, spilling onto the comforter, and reminded himself that someone would _notice_ if the girl died or disappeared, and she probably didn't even fucking know who Carmela was anyway.

The girl gave him a wide, frightened look, grabbed frantically for her clothes, and ran for the door, still struggling with the buttons on her shirt. Luigi groaned, swearing, and let her go. Who the fuck would she tell, anyway? Fucking Amber? Let her. Bitch probably knew the truth anyway.

Fucking useless bitches, every one of them. He shook his head and went to take a shower.


End file.
